Extra, Extra! Read All About It!
by Riley Killer
Summary: "The Headlines are in: the Purple Dragons are out, the Foot is in an Uproar, find out what it's all about!" Lindsey Evans is a New York Times Journalist who just wrote her last article, one that's about to set New York City in an uproar. Trying to clear the blast of a bomb isn't the issue, but avoiding the survivors and enraged mobs? That might be where all the complications start.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT Franchise or any of its spinoffs. Lindsey Evans/Ellen Black, or Nina Lankcroft, are all under my ownership.

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**Let's Make the Headline, Baby!**

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_"Are you sure you want to do this?"_

The faint words of her editor rung like the bell toll in the back of her mind. Glasses glowed from the light provided by the computer screen. Lips pulled down into a frown as fingers danced across a keyboard, the strong tattooed statement of a purple dragon spiraling up from the wrist.

"_It's going to be dangerous."_

Another backspace, a few more words, and it would be done. The journalist hunched in front of the laptop they had so painstakingly hidden underneath their sofa cushion on and off for the past three years. The web of officials and underlings, the crime sprees and corrupted cops, all in an intricate diagram that covered the entirety of her closet walls behind the clothes. Professional wardrobes had been exchanged for cargo pants and revealing tank tops. Bare skin had been stained with inking. This would be the story to end her career, but it would put her name down in history.

Lindsey Evans had been aware her pursuit of the truth would cause a storm to be beheld, and she was on the eve of it. She would have to close up shop, she had a feeling she would have to call on her underground connections and go deep into hiding. Would any of it be worth it?

_"If I can make even a dent in the Dragon's infrastructure, maybe even take out some of their head officials, it'll all be worth it."_

Lindsey leaned back in her chair and drug her fingers through her purple and pink streaked black hair. The 'gang worthy' look, accompanied by the bars in her ears, and the ball that stuck out in the dip of her bottom lip made her look nothing like a New York Times journalist she really was. Her editor's conversation with her about taking on this project three years ago, drifted back into her mind.

_"It could end your career."_

_ "I suppose that's okay, my career's not exactly something you have kids and build a family doing, after all." _

She had sounded so arrogant, and through it all, had been blinded by the pride of being apart of something so much larger. Now though, her career would not only end, but also her entire life was about to be turned upside down. No more Wednesday night poker games with her fellow Dragons, no more jokes during schemes and attempts at being light hearted. No more nighttime wanders or sitting in on newest plots as Hun dished out the latest targets. There would just be running, as far and as quickly as possible until she was out of New York City. Snitches get Stitches, after all...

Her editor's payment would be deposited in her bank account where it mixed with what was very likely blood money. She had become accustomed biting down the taste of vomit, normally when a stack of bills would be handed to her for a completed jobs. Drugs, weaponry, corruption; she'd witnessed deals to make the stomach turn, agreements to make the heart sink.

Now it would all be out in the open. It would all be exposed, and like a knife to the back, she would stab the dragon after being its closest friend. The cost being herself. Perhaps it was noble sacrifice, or maybe it was the mouth-watering taste of the paycheck she would receive at the delivery of the article. After being in the field of overturning some of the nastiest stories in hopes of making her quit in the first five years of her career, Lindsey felt she'd done it all. This was just the icing on the cake.

The 29 year old rubbed her face and let out a tired sigh as she rested her elbow on her desk, and pulled her bottom lip out of habit. Green eyes that usually bore some lightning blue contacts scaled over the words. This was her masterpiece. She hoped her editor devoured every bit of it, but they'd discussed the failsafe. It had to be published, and it had to hit the markets by tomorrow morning. Her deadline, set three years ago had aways been for it to be returned by January 1st, of 2015. The New Years Eve edition of the New York Times announced yesterday, that it would go out tomorrow, on the second day of the year.

It had been hyped up for over a year, after a very careful twitter post from her account announced she was going to 'make NYC streets rattle.' Ellen Black, her pen name, had announced two months ago finally, after ten months of silence and social media hounding her, _"Get ready for the new year."_

If only they knew what she'd been doing to assure they'd get their story. Intermingling her soul to the darkness of the gangs and their doings. Feeding it to the Dragons and having tossed in her lot with the most unsavory. Purple Dragons forever, after all.

She looked at her tattooed arm and questioned just what she would have to do, or how much she would have to pay to get it removed. She wondered what dye or treatment would work best to get her hair back to the natural auburn it used to be; black with freckles did not look good. She also pondered how long it takes to heal over the lip ring so she got rid of the hole in her skin, and the ones in her ears. Or, the possibility that they would be there forever.

Lindsey let go of her lip and let her fingers drop for one final time down to the keyboard. Her alias was amongst the revealed names in the article. The evidence was mailed off to the cops yesterday. It was a way to clear herself of suspicion, and give an alibi, directly after. Perhaps later, if all went as planned, she would be brought into to testify. Or they would never find her at all, and just have to make due with the evidence at hand. She hadn't even begun to think about witness protection, but now would be a good time to ponder it; as she saved the last of the article and began to attach the lengthy 12 page special to an email.

'Ellen Black's' articles were always 'lunchtime readers,' as her boss liked to call it. You couldn't skim the article, and with the hype she'd stirred up, Lindsey prayed no one would dare to do so either. Crooked cops she befriended were going to lose their jobs; politicians were going to have to start new policies up on gang oppression. When it came to weapons, Lindsey hoped her article put the gun in the right hands for once, and nailed a bullet right through the hearts of the worst criminals.

But it had to be sent, first. As it finished uploading to attach onto the email, she threw it onto a few spare floppies and USB drives. One she wore around her neck, the others in envelopes to be mailed. One was to go to the editor of _Time Magazine_, another to _Nat Geo's_. As you could never be too sure on who would publish your work. Her credentials as Ellen Black, the New York Times undercover journalist, attached to the email with instructions on how to go about it. This story had to reach outside of NYC to get the job done.

Now... once again, all she had to do was send the bloody thing.

Her editor was waiting for it, the world that was below her feet, rumbling about in the city that never slept whispered for it, and all she had to do as she put the email to her editor, and CC'ed the entirety of her direct staff as promised, was press the send button.

This was it. This was the end of journalist known as Ellen Black, as was her closing statement at the end of the article. Really she hoped to find a nice quite job as a news reporter after this in a small town. Settle down, start a family. She would miss the city and it's loud noises and antics. It certainly wasn't anything like Cambridge, Massachusetts, where she attended college. But she would at least get to see her family again. Her editor would be protected, as would her bosses in being anonymous in the publishing. NYT after all, was a huge building with thousands when it came down to it.

She would just have to make sure she was completely free of the Dragons and the uproar this would cause. Their connections to the Foot Clan, and the notorious 'Shredder' figure. She was lighting a bomb and the aftermath was not going to be pretty.

But bravery as her grandmother used to say, was all about stepping up when the odds were fully against you, and you had every reason to be afraid. So with a shaky hand, Lindsey pressed 'send' after she wished her editor well and the best of luck. Wiping her laptop clean of data and shutting it down, she waited with her hands in her laps and fiddled with the rings that were wrapped around fingers to secure her look of a 'certified thug.' The vibration of her work phone drew her attention and she quickly opened the text.

"_Got it, it'll publish on the morning edition, send the postal stuff out, and get out of there. Money's already been transferred."_

Lindsey looked over her shoulder. The furnished apartment that was once filled with belongings was now sparse. The items were shipped off to her parents a little over week ago. Her clothes packed in green duffel so she could move quickly and lightly. If her apartment were ever found, as she shoved the laptop into the bag she'd travel with, they'd find the diagrams. They didn't need to know whom it belonged to though. They didn't need a face. They just needed a name.

'Ellen Black' would be a name on everyone's tongue. Envelope shoved under her arm and the hoodie shoved in the duffel, replaced for a normal black one to accompany her khaki cargos and boots, she grabbed the keys and shoved them into one last envelope for her landlord. The bundle placed under her arm with the envelope, and her green duffle over her shoulder. The cellphone pocketed, she pulled her hood up, turned out the lights, and exited the room for the very last time.

The trek to the outside and to a public mailbox felt longer than it should. Perhaps it was because of her heart that pounded in her chest, and sounded like a drum in her ears was the only thing for her to focus on now, as her hand rose to hail a lone cab to take her deeper into the night.

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_12 hours later…_

Brown eyes framed by a purple mask skimmed over the Internet articles available to him on the New York Times main site. His chair shifted slightly, making him more comfortable and the turtle shell on his back less tight as he leaned forward to stare at the screen. The scrolling feed of breaking news and social media filled with twitter posts of nonsensical banter, probably over the latest politic scandal. Then something finally did catch his eyes as the header lit red with a breaking news story.

_**Inside The Dragon's Den: Uncovering the Purple Dragons**_

By: _Ellen Black._

Donatello felt his mouth drop after he opened the article and began to read. The twitter feed below began to dance and scream with the E.B. fan base. His voice caught in his throat as he read names, crimes, and the journalist's inside undercover venture into the gang itself. From their initiation onto the meeting times they'd come to know by routine, to political figures met or witnessed meeting Dragon heads, and then finally, the nail in the coffin.

The connection the Purple Dragons held to the Foot clan, and the naming of Oroku Saki in particular as the head of it all. The journalist naming him in particular as a fact, rather than a speculation. This journalist had gotten as far deep down as able in the amount of time they had with the Purple Dragons. They had moved to set up connections, meetings, and got in close and cuddly with the heads, and now, they'd set the bomb that they'd planted deep within the heart after three years of careful movement.

Donatello fully appreciated the mastery of it all, however deep down, he knew exactly what he now faced, while he read the final line, _"The public has the right to know who pulls the strings. The authorities however, have the obligation to take care of the sickness that has infected our city for years now. So this is my last article to you all and I merely leave you with one final request: Shut Them Down."_

This was a death wish- gun loaded, and the trigger pulled all in one. His voice called out for his three brothers and his father; whom soon huddled around him as they felt the terror and realization of what was about to occur as they finished the final lines of the artical.

New York City had just become a powder keg, and it was highly likely it was about to go off.

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A/N: So, thoughts, feelings? Let me know, I'll see you next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I apologize for the short chapter; please blame my beta reader. Thank you to **JustineElla2, ****Aerisse Hasste**, and **Herio9071 **for reviewing!

Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT Franchise or any of its spinoffs. Lindsey Evans/Ellen Black, or Nina Lankcroft, are all under my ownership.

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**Opening a Can of Dragons**

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_Two days later…_

It was laughable. An article being unleashed into NYC that could pinpoint crime activity? Impossible. Nothing in the cops or the feds could take on the Dragons. At least, that's what they wanted to think. But here Dragon Face was, staring at his name, Clarence "Dragon Face" Laurance. Then there were the names of his underlings underneath. His hands shook as he held the issue of the New York Times.

Two of his men giggled as they pointed at it, ecstatic to see their names. After all, what evidence did the authorities have to back the article, other than pointing fingers and names? Dragon Face's heart began to pound in his chest though as the writer mentioned their own initiate jumping in, and then their tattooing after their initiate match. A dragon on the arm. He couldn't even place it. There were so many that chose the arm, and they offered no picture in the article.

The article was still circulating rather hard, despite being released earlier in the week. It was on the voice of every broadcast journalist. The cops had been quiet, so they thought they were in the clear. But one thought past that, kept crossing Dragon Face's mind.

_Does Hun Know? _He glanced at his phone that hadn't gone off in the past few days since the article released. He expected the man to have known or to have at least contacted him by now. However, all he heard from his boss was a call for all Dragons to meet. Little did he know the 7' 0" blonde giant was not only aware, but he was laid in waiting, for the arrival of the summons he set out earlier in the week...

_Two days earlier…_

Hun, the ferocious leader of the Purple Dragons, right hand man of the Shredder could barely contain himself. The onslaught of a murderous rage filled shriek was locked deep within his chest, his throat tight as the paper trembled in his hands. At first he had seen two of his underlings laughing over it, as though they thought it was some joke. It had simply been a thing they caught wind of and little knew about. That was until Hun caught the news, and soon enough, picked up one of the papers that his crew found so funny.

And then there it was, right in front of his face. This Ellen Black having claimed access into his crew, membership even. It was someone close to him, or had been associated with him as they spoke of his master, Oroku Saki. They had witnessed over a three year period the inner workings and infrastructure of the Dragons. Their deal with Baxter Stockman gone sour, the small rip offs of cheap shops in the cover of darkness; the escape of the 'hockey mask' assailant, known as Casey Jones. Evidently they didn't know that, though Hun knew whom they referred to as he read it.

An outsider had walked into his domain, gained his trust enough to call one of his own, and this blow to his gang was a sucker punch coming in from the back delivered from a trusted friend, someone who had the gall to snatch up the knife in the dark and come for the sweet spot when no one expected it…

He could almost admire it, if it weren't for the fact his honor and allegiance to the Foot clan and his Dragons screamed for retribution in kind. He turned to one of his underlings, "Contact the other dragons, we're having a meeting in three days about this." In the meanwhile, he contemplated how to bring this news to the attention of his master…

It turns out he didn't have to, as his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he fought back a wince at the familiar vibration pattern and pulled it out. He answered, "Hun."

"_What. Happened?" _Oroku Saki's voice was crisp, clear, and a deadly hiss. Hun felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and his senses turn immediately towards his master's displeasure. His chest locked and his eyes narrowed.

"It appears… they infiltrated my ranks.." Hun admitted lowly. He fought his voice back from a tremble at the Shredder's rage, nearly palpable in his breathing on the other edge of the phone. Soon it silenced though, and he felt fear edge on his mind.

"_How, Hun?"_ It was a demand, rather than a question. Hun swallowed the knot in his throat and steeled his voice.

"I don't know. But I am going to find them and-" Oroku's voice cut him off.

"_No, you will assure your gang activities are covered and take to the shadows. I will find this Ellen Black, with my foot soldiers." _

"But Master I-"

"_You have done Enough Damage." _The line went dead. Hun slowly lowered his cell phone with a chill, shame crossing his features. He clenched his fist carefully and resisted the urge to punch the wall. He would lash out later at a few of his underlings that needed proper training in combat, perhaps. Rage clouded his senses before he forced a breath and closed his eyes. He had damaged his Master's faith in him, as well as stained the honor of the Dragons in letting this rat within his ranks.

…His next move would have to be considered carefully. He could not send out a search for this phantom that had attacked them from within. However, he could do exactly as Oroku said. He could take his men into the shadows, _all of them…_

And assure they were all accounted for.

Every.

Last.

_One._

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A/N: Okay, this chapter is really, really short; please let me know what you think. I promise the next one, will definitely be longer. I will see you in a couple of days, once I have something nice, lengthy, and plot filled.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to **JustineElla2, ****Aerissa Hasste**, and **Herio9071 **for reviewing!

Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT Franchise or any of its spinoffs. Lindsey Evans/Ellen Black, or Nina Lankcroft belong to me.

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**Foot Race**

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_Four days since the articles release…_

The apartment made no sound with the exception of the rustling of papers that lay stuck to the wall. The careful red threads that connected from one weapons depot to another, or an associated with a rather full gang hideout caused red streaks across New York. It reminded the four turtles of blood, as they stood in front of the closet in partial awe and speechlessness.

Four days ago, after the reading of the article, Donatello had set out to tracking down the IP address of the article's origin. It had taken him a day to go through the Time's database, and even longer to go through staff emails. As he doubted the article was simply handed over in person. Meanwhile, he had kept his other eye glued to the crime alerts to see if there had been any violent reaction from the Purple Dragons. Surprisingly, in the past few days, it had been at all time low. Odd for the Dragons; after day three though, the police raids began.

Purple Dragon hideouts had turned up empty. He wondered where they had all gone to, as the Dragons weren't the brightest. Though after the second day of his data searching, two days ago, he came across an interesting email to the editor, carrying the article itself. This led to tracking the geographical location of the sender through their IP address and got the apartment building they currently stood in. He could only hope it belonged to their elusive Ellen Black. After searching for any tenants that had left as of recently, they only found one vacant apartment.

It belongs to a Lindsey Evans who officially finished her lease and checked out four days ago. Lindsey Evans, Donatello could only logically conclude, was their Ellen Black. His confirmation came in the form of a phone call he attempted earlier.

The editor seemed to have made him or herself scarce, as when he called Time Square One to ask for them, they were unavailable. After his fifth attempt, he got the picture that they too, had wisely gone off the map. No doubt, the editor followed the lead of their employee, and made it a point to disappear. It was a joint effort. So none of this was a surprise to anyone who was working for the 'Times. He also took his time to view the directory, and found unsurprisingly her name wasn't amongst the choices. When he asked directly for her though, the woman on the other end had hung up on him.

On edge and unwittingly, that secretary gave him all he needed. This map confirmed his suspicions. Though, he did have to wonder why someone who had been so calculative and careful, would leave behind such a big piece of evidence?

His other three brothers had their own ways of communicating their distress due to the situation. Raphael had grown impatient over the two days of Donatello's searching before he found the address, and had locked himself in the training room for large chunks of the day. It wasn't uncommon to hear him growling or snarling about 'stupid writers' or 'dumb Purple Dragons.' Leonardo had meditated on it greatly. He had insisted they find the woman before she caused any more damage, or worse, before the Foot and Dragons found her. They were not to interfere, but Leonardo had voiced, if they could influence her away from them, it would be for the better.

Michelangelo had planted himself on the couch, and watched the news, when they were not training. Their Master, Splinter, joining him. The news was all over the hype from the article's release. Panel interviews being released to the public of some of the more intelligent minds coming together over the issue. The public was definitely noted of the crime rate decreasing significantly, and the main question of each interview being, 'was the article doing more good, than damage for once?' No one bothered to call Ellen Black a vigilante, and some were even going as far as saying her position from within the Dragons to deliver the article, bordered on corporate espionage. Meanwhile, a full investigation was called on the New York Police Department for corruption, and the politicians were frantic as they were called in for questioning on gang activities.

There had been no word from Oroku Saki yet, despite being hounded by paparazzi who were denied access. The turtles' eyes on the streets didn't see anything as far as Foot activity went. Though Donatello had his doubts that Casey Jones would be able to see them right away or detect them to begin with. Things he wisely kept from his more than hot headed brother as of late.

While they stared at the map long and hard, in silent contemplation; he had to admit, the power of the pen was awe striking. Lindsey Evans was a fantastic reporter, and it seemed she'd done everything in her power to get the truth out.

Yet, with how many times he and his brothers came down on her, Donatello had to question yet again...

How on earth, had she missed the four turtles that were consistently kicking Purple Dragon butt, for the past three years?

"…Guys." He looked towards Mikey as the youngest of the turtles stared up at something. Their eyes all followed his gaze and he inhaled deeply, his senses heightened and alert as his hand reached up to gently rest on his Bo staff that lay strapped to his shell covered back.

"Dat's not good." Raphael growled, and Donatello shook his head as he stared at the red paint that lay tacky against the ceiling still drying.

Leonardo was the first to finally look down as he made his way to the window, "…We need to find this Evans woman, before _they_ do."

The three turtles nodded in agreement and quickly followed. Raphael pulled out the shell cell to call his friend Casey Jones and April O'Neil. The more eyes they had, the better.

Meanwhile, Donatello felt a nervous edge come to his thoughts as he cast a look back at the apartment they vacated. Oroku Saki had stayed quiet in order to remain undetected. The giant symbol of the Foot Clan on the ceiling, indicated more than enough to the boys that he already _knew_.

The Shredder was on the hunt for Evans, and Donnie was sure that they needed to get to her first.

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_The Bronx.._

Traveling on foot was not ideally how Lindsey wanted to get out of town. Originally she had planned on taking the cab directly out of town, or at least to Westchester county. Yet when she saw the Purple Dragon on the back of the cab driver's neck, and the familiar face that greeted her with a cheerful demeanor and an at ease conversation that followed, she couldn't bring herself to give the destination she desired. She, in fact went the complete opposite direction.

She had been making her way on foot since. Sure to move during the day, and lay low towards the peak hours at night. She had cut into the Bronx the earlier in the afternoon, and now she was almost out of the city, soon to the county where her editor waited to pick her up.

It seemed a bit unnecessary, but upon Hun's text yesterday that called for all Purple Dragons to meet at the central warehouse, deep in the heart of Queens; it was all she could do to stay under the wire. She'd destroyed and ditched her phone somewhere in Brooklyn, after she sent a final text with the address of the pick up. The thing that had her most on edge was the fact her appearance still hadn't changed. Lindsey Evans still looked like Nina Lankcroft, the Purple Dragon…

No doubt Hun would have noted given the circumstances and time that she failed to come to his call. The man could be scarily bright when he was properly motivated…

She was already four days late for her pick up, but she supposed given her editor's upkeep on the situation, it was understandable. She just hoped the man waited until she was there. The last thing she needed was an itchy and edgy get away driver. She felt her stride pick up the pace. She was excited to sleep in a place with a bed, and hot running water again. Squatting in empty abandoned homes with the homeless wasn't that fun. She unfortunately had to put the brass knuckles in her hoodie pockets to use a few times, in the past few days.

After the three-year investment of being a Purple Dragon, she knew more than her fair share on how to use them effectively. One didn't get taken in without learning some sort of jiujutsu crap. She preferred the judo lessons though. She wasn't the tallest or the quickest, but the lower center of gravity and using her opponent's energy against them. That had worked in her favor rather well. It just became troubling when she had multiple attackers. Then if she wasn't quick enough, her fists needed to be.

Originally, she had done kickboxing and boxing to prepare for the initiation. Her match had composed of two challenging Purple Dragons. Back then she'd just dyed her hair black, and put in the lightning blue contacts. She'd had to discard them hours after her cab ride as they irritated her eyes. The glasses black thick frames at least worked to give her an alternative look. With the hoodie on and her dragon covered, maybe she could just pass for a college kid?

Either way, she turned her focus back to the past as she made haste to the pick up. Two dragons. The fight itself had been gritty and bloody. Her arm had been broken in the process when one took a metal club to it. She would get phantom pains when it got too cold from where the bone healed. They'd taken turns with their attacks, before going together. It'd taken a rather well timed palm thrust to the throat, and a hard kick to the abdomen to get one of them out of the ring. She'd been suplexed after, by the second opponent.

Once she'd recovered; a shakily aimed roundhouse kick to her female opponent's chest, to cover for her broken arm, and being given a bloody nose and busted lip from her opponent's fist, gave her time to grab the club and bash it against the woman's head. It was the last time Lindsey remembered being fully frightened for her well being until now. That fear though had been enough to land the unconscious woman after in the hospital, and 'Nina Lankcroft' a warm cozy spot with in the Purple Dragon's ranks.

Shortly after her initiate, Hun and Dragon Face had begun teaching her and the rest of her fellow 'class' the ropes in hand-to-hand combat. All dragons were required to learn some sort of discipline, it helped them function as a team, and later on, during crimes.

Then there were those odd balls during crimes that showed up, and managed to lay them out like they were nothing. Lindsey never bothered with follow up investigatory work though on them. They, and their compatriot the hockey mask assailant, someone Hun preferred to growl and call 'Jones' when in complaint of them, had a knack for showing up right in the middle of a well plotted attack and she'd taken more than her fair share of hits with her 'crew members' in being defeated. She was just thankful they let her be when she fell unconscious, just as they left her to the cops. There were no Dragons she knew that would grant the same mercy. Ransom or hostage situations, or even forced induction might be what usually followed after such a beat down. They were Purple Dragon enemies though, so when they showed up, she had a habit of just letting them take her out and go down easy. It was less pain for her, and a quicker victory for them. Hun's response at the time had been to force more lessons down her throat.

"_Eventually they're gonna get you and you're gonna go in." _He'd threatened her immediate crew and herself once. She'd looked up from groaning on the floor on her back where his swiping arm had knocked she and two others back, _"And I'm not gonna be bothered to pull you useless chumps back out."_

For all his flaws though, she did admire Hun's leadership capability and his discipline. Many of the goons thought him a giant bully. But, in light of actions he was capable of, such as calling for all Dragons regardless of current situations and lying low, as no doubt that was what he was doing… She felt the pull to go in to report. To Lindsey, that was all the proof she needed to show Hun was still one hell of a gang leader.

A cop car blazed by, sirens whirling, and she tucked herself into a corner as the last bits of the sun disappeared behind the buildings. The driver didn't even notice her.

Lindsey let out a thankful sigh. New York had some of the most corrupt cops. It nearly astounded her once she began to see it all from the inside out. They were just as likely though to throw her into the snake pit, as they were to help her. More than her fair share of times, had she and the others of her crew who'd lost to the vigilante assailants, been let out of a cell by a Purple Dragon implanted agent. They were just as likely to be Hun's current eyes and ears for the traitor dragon, as they were to be dealing with actual crimes.

She wasn't too far from the county border now. She could make it if she hustled, before the search parties would come out in full force. It would be easier to clear the area once she was in a vehicle that was speeding like hell out of dodge, after all. It wasn't far now. Just a few blocks away. Daring to go up into a full sprint as she bolted into the alleys and through them, duffel bag still over her shoulders and bouncing up and down on her back, she saw the diner's lit interior that shined like a beacon of hope.

Her gloved hand found the front door's cold metal handle and she yanked it back, stepping inside and the smell of mouth watering food almost made her swoon. Her eyes scoured the place for her editor. She spotted him hunched over the bar, staring at a piece of pie with an exhausted look. Dark circles around his eyes, and a white knuckled hand clutched to his fork.

With the scruffy 5 o'clock shadow and out of place hair, then the giant trench coat that was thrown over his body. He looked horrible. His tie was loosened and his clothes disheveled. Honestly Lindsey felt bad for making him wait so long. Her hand came up and she grasped his shoulder, he approached and looked at her. His widened eyes then feeling with tears.

"Evans, I-I-I'm sorry-" She gave him a sympathetic smile and a gentle squeeze.

"It's okay Donald, we can get the hell out of here now." She consoled gently, leaning against the barstool, his eyes leaked with the fluid that made big fat tears roll down his face.

"N-No it's- they know, Lindsey. _They_ Know."

_...They? _Her blood chilled in its veins and she felt her heart stop for a moment. Her hand went limp on his shoulder and fell by her side as she stared down wide-eyed. The diner seemed to go quiet, his mouth began moving but Lindsey couldn't hear him.

"_They came and took my family, Evans." _What was she going to do?_ "I couldn't stop them. They came out of nowhere after I got them to the safe house and-" _Did Hun know then? Was Hun Coming? Her body began to shake. _"Lindsey, Lindsey they were going to kill them- I couldn't just let my fam-" _She needed to run.

She pivoted to exit, then stilled as the other compatriots of the diner had rose from their spot. Jackets were dropped and dragons danced into her vision. She felt her heart beat in her throat and her muscles seize, locking as fear paralyzed her. Scowls showed in her direction and from the darkness of the interior wall, a few men in masks and body suits emerged, the red patch with the foot emblazoned on their shoulders and chests.

The bell of the diner rang and her eyes turned slowly to the door. The scream locked in her throat white knuckled as the hulking 7' 0" blonde came walking in. Stone faced as he stared down at her, and his eyes glared daggers on her smaller shaking form. He stepped to the side. Lindsey ceased function all together as she spotted the bi pronged gauntlet that flashed menacingly. The tip just red, making her wonder if it was with blood, or perhaps the borderline hysteria that was ravaging her mind made her see things.

When her eyes finally made it to the masked samurai helmet and mask, Lindsey found red eyes piercing into her soul; it was the last thing she saw before the black bag was shoved over her head, and her throat gave way to a scream that ripped through the air.

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A/N: Things are not looking good for miss Lindsey! Let me know what you think! I'll see you next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thank you for reviewing to **Herio9071 **and **JustineElla2**!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the TMNT Franchise or any of its spinoffs. Lindsey Evans/Ellen Black, or Nina Lankcroft are of my own creation and thus my property.

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**For Whom The Bell… Clangs?**

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Lindsey couldn't breathe. The heart that pounded in her chest, echoed in her ears as she lay on her bound hands. The bumps of the car as she was set in the trunk of a vehicle, jostled her while the black bag blinded her from the interior lights. Her throat felt tight as she hyperventilated.

_Where did I mess up?_ She knew already where, but the line seemed to be something to focus on. Truthfully, the evidence in her apartment had been enough. But it wasn't that, it was back. Back three years ago when she stood in front of her editor and said those faithful lines, hands spread wide, cocky grin on her lips, and a tired glare in her eyes.

She'd looked like a hungry dog, about to devour the next headline. Ready to chase the next big story, and she had one. One insane little idea, that manifested and developed, up until this very moment.

All because she said that one, single line.

_"Donald, I got this fabulous idea for a story._" Donald had simply given her a bored look at the time before he had sat back on in his chair. She could remember the sound of his pen as it had been thrown down.

_"You just got done with the Harthland case. I don't think you need another one." _But she had been so stupid. So ready. So done with the playing these silly little games.

_"What if I sell you in two words?" _His lower head had risen as she had baited him with a challenge, and her grin had only widened. _"Purple Dragons."_

It wasn't the map in the apartment. It was that day. It was that day Lindsey Evans went into Donald Reece's office of the New York Times, stood in front of him in street clothes and a leather band on her wrist, and they worked out the details. It was them as they sat through the lunch hour, tossing ideas back and forth, and finally, the point he brought up to seal the deal.

_"Are you sure you want to do this?"_ He had looked at her with the sternest scowl, she recalled the tapping of his hand smacking out a cigarette from a soft pack. The switch of a lighter, and the warmth gentle from the flame. A long drag, and the scent of the nicotine as it wafted her way in the smoke, _"It's going to be dangerous."_

They stood on the roof of the building for the moment. She leaned forward and set her elbows against the edge. A darkened gaze set over the city as she recalled, it had been midday. It was a hot August day too.

As she stared in the interior of the black bag, the heart that pounded in her chest faded as she felt the heat of a tear go down cheek while her eyes leaked. _"If I can make even a dent in the Dragon's infrastructure, maybe even take out some of their head officials, it'll all be worth it."_

At the time, they didn't think about things like lash back. That happened shortly before she officially began. That's when they worked slow safe guards. An anonymity clause, liabilities contracts, and waivers came next. Quiet legislation within the company, to protect the Times, and the involved employees.

To make it so there would only be one target if it fell through, not many. The madness, how they even pulled it off, she still questioned even now. How they let her go through with it…

Donald that day had put out his cigarette as it reached the filter, and she recalled the sound of his shoe as it scuffed against the roof. _"It could end your career." _And that had been the words to seal it. Maybe it was spite against her 'career' of going under, and behind enemy lines. Maybe it was the countless trips as a branded traitor to some organization or another. But this time, madness had stepped into Lindsey Evan's mind. Whispered to Ellen Black, and awoke Nina Lankcroft, the soon to be Purple Dragon initiate.

Perhaps it was a rage against her position. Perhaps it was desperation from some plight. Looking back after three years. Three long years. To sum it up in the back of a car trunk, bag over her head, hands bound, and the talons of fear deep in her chest, Lindsey couldn't be sure. She couldn't even remotely begin to recall, what had been going through her mind as a journalist, hell, as a person.

_"I suppose that's okay." _Now, it seemed anything but okay. _"My career's not exactly something you have kids and build a family doing, after all." _No. It wasn't.

For Lindsey Evans, it was the type of career that sent you directly towards one place. The grave.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted the copper warm tang of blood, her eyes shut tight as tears wet the bag over her face. _I don't want to die. _That wasn't even the worst of it though. The worst of it was in the pit of her stomach, reaching up to her heart, wrapping it's claws around it, and hissing a laugh as she let out a low sob.

Everything that brought her to this moment was her own fault, and everything to come, she had brought upon herself.

She had lost track of time once her eyes couldn't cry anymore and her throat had rubbed raw from the sobs. She'd rolled onto her side and curled up when she heard it. The sound of a light thumping on the top of the car. Low muffled voices growled at each other from beyond the trunk, but other than that, she heard nothing as her mind drifted…

The low screech of the brakes stirred Lindsey from her exhausted unconsciousness. The death of the engine and the jangle of keys made her lift her head. A kink in her neck and the ache from her compromised position drug a hiss between gritted teeth. The dull thud of footsteps that approached the back of the vehicle caused her body to tense. Her mind began to wake up from its small confusion at its renewed awareness of the situation. There wasn't any time left.

She gulped down spit to wet her dry throat, the click of the trunk sounded it's release, and she rolled.

A defiant snarl ripped from her as her feet kicked out. They connected with something soft and a grunt followed. Soon her form was subdued as it flailed, attempting to kick the life out of what ever was in front of her. The massive hand that subdued her though, did so with a hand over her face, slamming her head back into the back of the trunk. Her lower half over the back of the car, her chest arched as her lower back was pressed into her clenched fists.

A scoff echoed from above her, Hun's voice barked "Get up, you idiot." She let out a muffled yell as he lifted her form from the vehicle and tossed her to the side, the bag ripped from her head.

Light flooded her vision and Lindsey's legs collapsed under her in a state of momentary blindness. Her knees bashed to the gravel speckled concrete and a moan of pain ushered from her lips. Soon her feet began to scramble underneath herself in an attempt to get up. Hands clenched tightly to her forearms though. As her eyes adjusted, she looked up to see Dragon Face's leer and hiss as his nails dug into her arm.

"Two fangs Lankcroft. I heard you've been spreading the news around." She leaned away as he leaned forward with lips widened to a toothy grin. Lindsey's teeth gritted at him in a snarl, "Turned on all of us, that's what the boss says. Wonder if he'll let me have a shot at you with a bat or spiked club before he's through with you."

She felt like she was going to be sick. His hand moved down and grasped onto one of her tied wrists. Turning it and pressing it up, contorting her arms causing a yell to follow as he kicked the back of her knees. Her wrist burned as it shot pain up her arms and her legs shook as he pressed down.

There wasn't much time to react before a massive fist collided into her stomach from above, and she was hunched over it, a loud crack upon impact forcefully cutting off the shriek of pain. Lindsey thusly sat there mouth open, eyes widened, pupils shrunk, and pain the only thing her mind could comprehend as she laid hunched over Hun's fist.

She came too as a second fist, smaller, more agile, and less forceful, collided with her jaw and sent her sprawling onto the floor. A land on her side caused a snarl of pain as it shot through her chest. Dragonface stood over her, fiddling with his pockets as she shook. In a desperate attempt she rolled onto her stomach, using her knees to try and crawl away. A solid boot slammed onto her back, and the pressure as they leaned forward, grasping the back of her hood made her mouth open, "A-ah-"

"I would kill you right now if I took out the full extent of my anger on you." Hun's voice reverberated, though not from above. The zipper of her hoodie began to choke her and the sound of her throat being closed caused a cough. The gagging sound of spit and struggle with the boot on her back from above made her eyes water with fresh tears. "And I want you to suffer for this. You betrayed me, Lankcroft. Or should I say, _Lindsey Evans._ You betrayed me and your entire Dragon family. How do you suppose I am to even take that? Even worse, you threatened my Master. I can't just _Let This GO!_" The hurried sounds of the giant blonde's running made her eyes shut before her hair was grasped up in Hun's hand. Her scalp in pain ripped a shriek from her as she was yanked off her feet.

Dragon Face jumped back from his spot perched on top of her. Mindful to let go or else the boss would turn his anger outwards to him. Hun was preoccupied as his face hovered dangerously close to the woman's though.

"How am I supposed to react towards a rat getting in my gang and attempting to rip it from the inside out? How do you think I should take one of my dragons turning traitor and trying to turn everything I've worked hard to create on its head?" Lindsey let out a gasp as he released her hair; her form dropped a few feet, before the seven-foot man's hand caught her by her throat. He yanked her close, her body only an inch away from his own "You're going to _suffer_ for this, Lankcroft." He dropped her and she let out a gasp. Her feet crumpled underneath her and he leaned down, a hand grasping one of her ankles. He began to walk, dragging her behind him. "I'll make sure of it personally..."

"H-Hun, no- P-please!" Lindsey didn't get much more than that out before her body was throw up against the wall as he merely pivoted. The warehouse corridor he'd drug her from the warehouse garage into, echoed with the collision and a cry that followed as another snap went through the air. Her crumpled form shook as he cursed lowly. Her right shoulder rolled back oddly as her head slumped and her chest heaved with wet shaky gasps. Soon coughs ripped from her mouth, and she stared at the blood that splattered the floor.

"Probably shouldn't talk much, _Nina_." Mocked Dragon Face. Hun's footsteps continued to echo before the smaller man reached around her waist and hoisted her under his arm. Lindsey found it significantly harder to breathe, her gasps became shorter than the last, "You might end up dead before we even remove that dragon from you." Her breathing stopped all together. "…Oh that's right. You didn't know?" Her widened eyes slowly swiveled to him, her mouth opened with pale chapped lips that she licked nervously as he smirked. "I suppose I'll tell you, since it'll really just make everything worse. Prolong the anguish of it all, you know." He looked back ahead and continued his tread. A laugh on his lips as he stated with humor, "We're going to cut if off, heh!"

* * *

… The turtles slid to a halt once on the rooftop of an old warehouse Hun had just drove into. They'd reached the diner just as Hun had been exiting, a hologram of the Shredder disappearing beside him in the process. A black bagged covered woman being guided out with bound hands, kicking and struggling. Since then, it had been a chase through rooftops, vehicles, and playing 'keep up.'

Now they'd finally made it, the guards out in the front informing them they would have to tread carefully. Then again though, these _were_ just Purple Dragons. Michelangelo fidgeted with his nunchucks as he looked over the edge, before a cry from the spacious interior reached them. "Dudes….?"

"I'm hacking into their mainframe now." Donatello murmured his brother's concerned face. "I just need to get onto their wifi signal first and-"

"Yeah yeah- less talk, just _do it_ Donnie." Raphael hastily snapped as he began for the roof access doorway, "Or else Evans might not be so lucky by the time we actually get to her."

"We can't just go bursting in Raph, we need a plan." Leonardo murmured, he stepped towards his brother, "We don't need to put ourselves at necessary risk here, either."

"Uh bro, it's Purple Dragons, don't we kick their tails daily?" Michelangelo inquired, looking at the blue-banded turtle that flinched with a scowl. Another female yell ushered through the ventilation duct that stuck up near them. Mikey jumped away from it with his hands up and eyes wide, "Whoa! U- Uh Donnie-"

"I said I'm _on it__._" Donatello began, "I just need to bypass the firewall into the security system and we should have their camera- There we go." The bo staff user stared down at the hand held computer. His eyes narrowed before he looked up, another cry echoed from within the building and he winced. The three other brothers hovered around to see the limp form of their target hanging from the grasp of Hun as he scowled up, hand tightly around the throat. The woman's mouth open for air before he dropped her to the ground.

Muffled male baritone hisses came up next, but they couldn't quite decipher it as the giant began to drag Evans behind him.

"Alright guys, we need a plan." Leonardo began; Raphael scowled down at the image.

"Yeah, we get her outta there before Hun kills her, oh- and kick Dragon tail in the process."

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… They arrived in an empty room minutes later. Dragon Face dropped her from his side. Upon impact, she curled and rolled to her knees, coughing and hunched over. The pain in her chest worsened with each hack and her body shook.

"Not lookin' too good there, Lankcroft." Dragon Face murmured lowly. Her eyes turned up towards him and her lips pulled back to reveal a bloody snarl. She hit the ground and broke into another coughing fit after the back of his hand struck her jaw. The metal on the back of his fingerless gloves leaving blood as they cut into her chin, "And you're about to look worse!" His foot rose and-

"Think twice, _Laurance_." Hun growled as he drug a box out towards the middle of the room, "And take off your belt." The man looked up from Lindsey with a scowl and an open mouth. As Hun scowled at him, he began to remove it as ordered with a nod. "Then get her ready once it's off." He turned and exited.

Lindsey pulled herself up from the ground as her chest heaved. Her eyes trailed up Dragon Face while her mind struggled to retain some form of sanity left in it. She needed to think, and plan. She needed to make some sort of retaliation before Hun returned from wherever he had gone.

The only thing she knew that wasn't damaged was her feet and legs still. She could strike out, trip him up, maybe even get to her feet in time- her body tensed for action and a pain jolted from her chest.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up. Dragon Face's eyes connected with her own and she let out a yell as he grabbed her arms. Her shoulder was next to flare with pain, her legs kicked out as she struggled, soon to simply be a fit of heaving gasps and coughs. He twisted her around, and shoved her over the box, bent over her as he kept his hands on her wrists in her lower back.

"You know- this isn't a bad look for ya, Two Fangs." He murmured lowly, she felt her body shake, "Maybe I'll wait to take the bat to you…"

Her heel found between his legs, and slammed up. The sound of his breath being cut off, and the feeling of her hands they loosened gave her the encouragement to repeat. Soon Dragon Face fell over, she shoved herself to her height and her breathing lengthened. The pain lessened slightly, and she tried to take full gasps before she dug her foot in.

With a twist and a yell she slammed it into his head, once, twice, and then again. Blood trickled from his nose, and mouth from where her foot went through his teeth, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he was soundly knocked unconscious.

Her chest jolted as she used her body to give an extra force to her kick while she slammed her heel into his chest. The sound of his chest plate as it cracked gave her a satisfaction that was soon cut short.

The heavy sound of Hun's footsteps made her look up, and meet his gaze. Hun stilled, hand encompassing an axe that glinted menacing in the florescent light. She took a step back as he stalked forward.

"Well well well, at least it's good to see I taught you _something_." He rumbled. Lindsey's own pants sounded too loud in her ears as her heartbeat began to pick up as he took a step forward, "It's a bit too late to impress me now though, Evans."

"Then How About We Give It A Shot?!" A younger male voice yelled into the room. Hun's eyes narrowed as he looked up, Lindsey's eyes followed. The bare ventilation shaft that lined the ceiling rumbled and clanged, before a crack sounded and it began to fall. Her eyes narrowed as it collided with the floor and a flash of green and red darted out the darkness of it. Her mouth dropped as a two-toed foot slammed into Hun's chest, the force of it making his feet stumble back.

Another darted form, green and blue this time followed him. A lunge up and a three-fingered fist holding a katana slammed into the blonde's face. Just like that though, the man was down. Her terror defeated by two attacks skillfully. As he fell back onto his arms, Hun stared up, and she watched as a twist from the red and green creature slammed his heel into the giant's temple. Soon the man collapsed to the floor unconscious all together.

She inhaled sharply as they turned towards her, but soon was yanked into another coughing fit. Air seemed harder to get too as she hunched, her legs had to give underneath her and her knees spread apart to balance her. Her clenched hands strained against the rope behind her back.

"Wait- That's Lindsey Evans?" The same voice that had initially yelled spoke out. She couldn't look up to see whom exactly as her eyes shut tight against the hacks. Wet splotches appeared on her tongue and copper reached her sense of taste. She chanced a wince towards the ground and stared as crimson stained the ground. " Dudes… That doesn't look good." There were quick footsteps, the unsheathing of a blade reached her ears. A skilled hand sliced the ropes around her wrists and the remains fell to the floor. With red welts across the wrists from the burns of straining against them, her good arm planted her on the floor immediately. Her dislocated shoulder and attached arm hung uselessly at her side.

A hand planted on said shoulder, and a very calm voice stated simply, "This is going to hurt."

She didn't have time to react before her shoulder was yanked and her eyes shot open as a gasp followed. Black spots began to blur her vision and she slumped forward. Gentle but strong hands grasped her arms and a hiss followed as they pushed her upright, her hand dropped to her side to hold the aching part. "A-ah…"

"You may have a broken rib." The voice in front of her, stated. "Possibly irritating your lung… we should get her back guys. I can't take care of this here."

Back, back where? Lindsey's head swam with thoughts and confusion. Recognition and relief, and all the while exhaustion played at the frayed threads of her mind.

"We should take her to a hospital." A weak opening of her eyes revealed the blue band-wearing turtle with the katana had spoken. He was crouched beside her.

These turtles, honestly… turtles. She always thought Hun was just paranoid and they were in costumes or something whenever they'd attack or ruin a scheme. But they looked like… actual turtles. Her eyes rolled up as she tried to hang on. Their voices beginning to fade.

"…will look in the hospitals, Leo…" The deep baritone of the red banded.

"…Splinter…dudes!" The higher pitched voice of the orange one.

"…..losing her!" The high intellectual tone that filled with frantic worry of the one with the purple band.

Her head slumped forward at last while those hands on her seemed to grasp her up. She felt weightless as something wrapped tight around her ribs and a quick push made an exhausted hiss exit her. She didn't hear them anymore as the darkness finally settled in and her consciousness was lost.

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**A/N: **Aaaaah snap! Lindsey is now rescued and under the 'Turtle Protection Program' yo! Alright. Now I'm off to finish packing, and more than likely to bed after that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and sorry for the wait. It took two showings of the new TMNT movie to put it together, and a bit of conversation to get out of writing a revenge fic. I hope you enjoyed it, and let me know what you thought! See you next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you to **Ohmygodcheese **and **Herio9071** for Reviewing!

Disclaimer:I do not own the TMNT Franchise or any of its spinoffs. Lindsey Evans/Ellen Black, or Nina Lankcroft are of my own creation and thus my property.

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**Whiplash**

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"_Fly me to the moon, and let me play, among the stars. Let me see what spring is like, on Jupiter and mars, in other words… hold my hand-"_

_ "Shut up Two-Fangs." Daniel "Bladed Tail" Riker snapped. Nina Lankcroft's electric blue eyes swiveled to him with a scowl; the singsong tones of her voice were dropped completely._

_ "You got something against the classics, BT?" She growled. The two tensed and squared off their shoulders in a locked glare._

_ "Yeh." Inwardly, Nina cringed at the slang. "They suck."_

_ And then it was **on**. She lunged at him, hands finding his shoulders and onto the floor they went. Punches were traded and attempts to free themselves were conducted as they rolled. Foot stomps approached before they were grasped by the back of their clothes and separated._

_ "What Are You Doing?!" Hun snarled. His glare landed on both of them, "The two of you- in the training room, now."_

_ Nina's bottom lip pointed out in a pout after he dropped them both of the floor. Like naughty children being disciplined, they followed. The 27 year old's lips ushered grumbles the entire way. A slow glare over his shoulder made her stiffen and stare up wide-eyed. He turned around and covered the distance in a mere two steps. "…Do you care to repeat that, Lankcroft?"_

_ Nina debated for a moment, before her lip lifted in a sneer, "…I said I don't see why I need to be in trouble, when __**he's **__the one that's an uncultured swine." Hun's face did not change what-so-ever, and instead of being given the dignity of marching into the room, he grabbed her by the front, and twisted, throwing her in "Whoa!"_

_ She stumbled and fell forward as her toes met the floor again. She let her body move with gravity, falling and tucking into a roll before her feet rested underneath her and she sprung up. Bladed Tail snickered; Nina tossed him a venomous glare. Not the least bit intimidated, he shrugged and smirked._

_ Hun entered the room and blocked the doorway, "Your behavior is disgraceful." He spat, the two immediately looked at him with frowns as his tones were tinted with dangerous intent, "Your __**form**__ is even more disgusting. You will not leave here until you conduct yourselves appropriately as teammates, and in combat." One would think the brute would just let them tear at each other until one put the other in the hospital, but Nina soon would realize that Hun wanted his dragons a well-oiled machine. Each member a little cog within that ran against each other until they all created a single working entity._

_ She turned towards BT, she reached up to grab the jewelry in her face, and remove it before Hun's hand came out and grasped her own._

_ "You will keep that in. You shouldn't have gotten it or decided to wear that junk if you weren't ready to fight with it on." A malicious smirk appeared on his lips, "Better be ready, Lankcroft." She felt fear spike in the back of her mind, and pulled her hand back with wide eyes._

_ "So- so are we fighting each other, boss?" BT questioned as he looked between Hun and Nina, Nina nodded with a face of equal confusion, before the blonde giant took a step forward and shut the door behind him._

_ "Of course not." He chided, "You two idiots won't learn a thing from each other, other than how to do worse." His smirk turned into a hungry grin, a fire lit in his eyes, "You two will be fighting me, together."_

_ And that was the day Nina Lankcroft swore she would never sing Sinatra again, and vowed to do what ever it took to stay out of private lessons with Hun…_

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_ …Unfortunately it never worked out that way. Private group lessons, one on one, eventually she expected to be attacked in the hallway on the worst days when passing him in the central warehouse in Queens, just to make sure her guard was up. One day he called her in though to his office. Hun's office was a scary place, like the kids in junior high fear of the principal. At nearly 28, she could feel her throat tighten as she reached it and saw Dragon Face exit. They never really spoke, he was a higher rank, and she was just a footman._

_ He let her past him though and shut the door as she entered. The blonde stared at a box in front of him before he looked up. "Your squad failed the mission yesterday." Her squad. Really she wasn't the leader, at least no one told her she was. She had assumed it was BT. He was always the loudest and the first to move. They followed his lead. "That Jones interfered with those freaks."_

_ Ah yes, Hun's mysterious freaks. She had thought they were myths until the night before. She had crawled away and hid in the dumpster when the cops had come. She was sore and aching with bruises that were all over from getting thrown into the side of it. She quietly placed her hands into her hoodie pocket, fingers finding her brass knuckles on the inside and slowly winding them into it. She wasn't going to be knocked about with out a fight. He looked her up and down, and then smirked._

_ "Tell me what happened." And so she did. With a calm voice she reiterated the entire events. From the break in of the small shop for the TVs and DVD players, the register, and then the disturbance from the hockey masked vigilante and the freaks. Silently, she noted to never put them in her article in the long run. The vicious group was an antidote, to the disease that was the Purple Dragons. It would be in the city's best interest to never include them. She also told him of the others getting picked up, and then how she crawled away when they weren't looking. She definitely lifted her leg up to show him the brace around her knee and ankle, to cover her own butt as to why she didn't defend her teammates. He held up his hand and she silenced without another word. Her hands remained in a white knuckled grip on her weapons._

_ Hun got to his feet, the monstrous height making her head tilt up to follow. Nina tensed and Lindsey on the inside, prepared for the worst._

_ "Your honesty is refreshing, Lankcroft." He stated calmly, he slid the box towards her, "These are for you."_

_ With hesitance, she removed her least dominant hand, her left, from her pocket. She relinquished the weapon and opened the box with a fumbling grasp. She stilled as she stared down and the light caused the handles to gleam. The black with purple dragons going up the sides of them made her head tilt as she ran a finger over them._

_ "…Pocket knives, sir?" She questioned, Hun crossed his arms and scowled._

_ "Don't be stupid. They come from the Philippines. They're illegal here in America when sharpened, so don't get caught with them like an idiot." She blinked and looked back down, "They're yours now. Consider them your," He gave a sneer, "Two fangs."_

_ "…Sir that name's just because I faced Janice and Maurice during my initi-"_

_ "Who do you think gave you that name, Lankcroft?" Her mouth snapped shut and she took another gaze down at the two knives. "One will require skill, two will require experience and expertise. You begin training with them tomorrow."_

_ Tomorrow? With a bladed weapon? She looked up to refuse, her mouth opening and eyes hardening, before she stopped dead in her tracks. The man's gaze locked onto her own and she felt a tremble exit her as she swiftly shut the box and snatched it up, hugging it to her chest. Nina clung to them as though they were a safe guard from Hun's wrath for the time being, because for all she knew, they were. His face didn't lighten up as he watched her though._

_ "Some idiot who likes fluff calls them butterfly knives. You'll refer to them as balisong is my presence though." He murmured, his voice was calm but his body was tensed. "…You wouldn't do the insult of refusing my gift, now would, Two Fangs?"_

_ That name again, she could almost spit at it. She slowly shook her head, "…No sir."_

_ "…I didn't think so." He held up a finger, "I'm giving these to you because your current weapons will do nothing against the enemy. A bat can at least bash someone's brains at. Your fists however, are powerless against this new… nuisance the Dragons are facing." He finally pointed at her, "You learn how to use them, and I better never seen those knuckles again." He crossed his arms, "Because next time you run into those freaks and that idiot Jones… you kill them, instead of hiding in a dumpster as your crew mates get taken away."_

_ Fear grasped at Nina as she held the box that contained the balisong close to her heart, and she gulped down. Her eyes drifted towards her new weapons, and then Hun spoke out._

_ "Do we have an understanding, Lankcroft?" She looked back up, and gave a nod as she escaped the fear, leaving it for the bliss numbness provided._

_ "Yes sir."_

* * *

Lindsey stirred as the feeling of pain and a monster of a headache came into her senses. Her body felt heavy and warm, underneath her felt soft. As she inhaled she smelled the stench of a sewer and fought back the want to gag. She felt so weak as she tried not to grimace against it.

"Donnie, 'she gonna make it?" A bronx accented baritone grumbled.

"I think so, I managed to get that rib away from her lung. She's stabilized for the most part." A wet cloth touched her head. "Master Splinter said he was going to make something to help with the irritation in her throat."

"Her breathing still doesn't sound too good, bros." It was the younger voice. She tried to think back to where she heard it before, but soon found she couldn't quite remember. She instead just silently agreed with it. Each deep breath rattled. She got enough to breathe, but not enough to feel comfortable by any means. New confusion blossomed in the journalist's mind though, who on earth was Master Splinter?

"Well it sounds a lot better than it did. I don't see why we can't take her to the hospital now that you've gotten her taken care of." A low sigh exited from the intellectual light voice she also found familiar. Why was it so familiar?

"Because it's too risky to move her while hooked up to oxygen, Leo. The hospital is too far, and I'm not sure she could make it."

"Plus." The baritone was back, "She saw us right before she conked out. I don't think we need her waking up and spouting off nonsense about some walkin' talkin' turtles."

"_With_ awesome nunchuck action. Dudes! Did you see Hun's face when we busted in?" A blissful sigh came from the youngest sounding voice. "It was priceless."

"Laugh it up Mikey, I don't think it'll be funny when the Dragons come knocking on our doorstep looking for one of their targets." This voice annoyed Lindsey the most. It was uppity and she didn't like it. Now she did scowl, eyes opening weakly to see green and purple above her. With out the aid of her glasses however, it was nothing but a blurry colorful creature. The cool cloth paused on her head and she looked down. Just enough to make out the plastic of an oxygen mask.

What the hell was that doing on her? Also why on earth was there a purple and green thing above her, with a washcloth? She tried to move for her glasses only to find her hands were strapped down. Her eyes widened and she tugged on them. The intellectual voice ushered from above her.

"No no no! Don't move! We had to strap you down so you wouldn't move while I was taking care of your broken rib! Please don't move!" Frantic worry toned its voice and she squinted her eyes, just being able to make out the green face with a purple band around it. For a moment she didn't move and fell limp against the bed. She looked back and forth, was she on a bed? She couldn't tell.

Her lips moved and she found it hard to make sound. A soft hiss followed before she found the creature leaned forward. It's head turned away from her as though listening. She figured she'd give a try.

"Glasses…" She whispered out. Her throat hurt to even make words! Frustration welled for a moment in her chest. It sprung up in realization, before it nodded. Soon she found the black frames being placed onto her face.

One of the lenses was cracked, but she made due as the world around her came into focus. She didn't know what to think at first. The green being in front of her seemed perfectly familiar. His eyes were narrowed but a concerned frown took his face. She didn't move at first, or try, but she looked over her shoulders to the side.

There were three others. They were all different shades of green, but different heights and forms. Her breathing ragged but she felt her heart beat pick up with her confusion. Her eyes darted from each one. Red, blue, orange, then back to the one above her. Purple. Her eyes shut tight as something pulled at the back of her mind.

_Hun stood with an axe. Dragon Face on the floor bleeding. Her wrists tied behind her back._ Memories began to flood her, and then she did struggle. Her mind overwhelmed with panic and she heard a shout from above her. The purple banded one. What was his name? What did it matter? Strong hands grasped her shoulders and held her back down while quickly a orange banded on jumped forward, laying over her legs.

"Whoa- whoa!" The Bronx turtle started, "Easy!" He was the one holding down her shoulders. The red banded one. Her eyes turned up and locked onto his as he frowned down at her. Something made her pause, trying to figure out what before a sting entered her neck that caused a hiss to usher from her lips. Her mind began to feel woozy seconds later.

"…The sedative should knock her back out again." Purple banded stated, his voice, what was he called earlier? Donnie? Yes, maybe that was it.

"Lively for someone who got the tar knocked out of e'm…" Red banded muttered. "Good thing all Purple Dragons aren't like this, or we might actually be in trouble." And then it hit her. Just as the last bit of consciousness began to drift away into the drug induced sleep.

_That's the one that hangs out with Jones… that's the one that took me out the night we failed Hun…_

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**A/N: **Alright! Lindsey is on her way to the road of recovery, and now in the wonderful company of the Turtles. It's gonna be an interesting ride! Go ahead and let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next chapter. Good day/afternoon/night, my lovelies!


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